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Women I've Shot

Birth: This is Shelley’s Story
The Birth of Kingston, 31 October 2018

Shelley lies calmly and quietly on the hospital bed, her hands holding a tiny white baby’s cap and a teeny nappy. She’s wheeled into the operating room and I change into blue scrubs. There are warm smiles all around. This is a scheduled C-section.

Shelley leans over, her back exposed, to get the epidural into her spine. It always makes me nervous to watch that long, thick needle entering such a vulnerable spot.

Shelley lies back and the doctors start to prepare her stomach. They are cleaning and laying down plastic sheeting over her legs and building up a curtain between Shelley’s round belly and her head, hiding the technicalities and gore of surgery. We wait a bit longer for the epidural to take full effect.

The C-section commences. Its magical that a baby is about to appear! A fine line followed by a tiny trail of blood has the first incision is made low down between the roundness of her tummy and her pubic area. The doctors are incredible, so calm, so warm, still smiling. More incisions are made, deeper and I get dizzy for a few moments. Then a gush of pink, fine liquid as they break her waters and open her womb. I see little Kingston’s head, its full of the thickest hair I’ve ever seen on a newborn, so, so very sweet.

His little head peaks out and the doctors hold back for a moment as he pushes himself out a bit, then they guide his head and his wet and vernix covered shoulders out. His hands pop out into the cool air of the operating theatre. The doctors grasp under his armpits and gently pull him out, his little legs kick into a new open space for the first time. A cry escapes as he inhales his first breath and releases it.

The doctors gloved hands clasp him gently to her body and she carefully grips him around his chest and holds him up above the dividing curtain to show Shelley her son for the first time. He opens his eyes, just the smallest squint into this new world, and reaches out and grabs his Moms pinky finger! The sweetest thing! Richard, Shelley’s husband is strong and watching mesmerized and holding his phone up to video the whole process as he meets his son for the first time too.

Kingston is carried to the warmed receiving bed on the left where a pediatrician runs his hand over his little head, over his fontanelle. The umbilical cord is clamped, and round nosed scissors are handed to Richard. He’s transfixed still with his phone watching. He takes the scissors and cuts the cord. Its emotional. Measurements are taken, hospital bracelets are attached. His little back and shoulders are covered in the finest and cutest lanugo I’ve ever seen.

Little Kingston is weighed. 3985 grams. A little frown on his face, his wet dark hair. He’s wrapped in a towel, his nappy and cap are put on by a lovely nurseand he’s on Shelley’s chest, very close to her face. She’s got the biggest smile on her face as she takes his little hand into hers. His tiny fingers are all wrinkled and pink!

Kingston rolls his head around to his mom’s face and places his mouth over hers. A kiss!

The surgery is complete, and Shelley is moved off the operating table and onto a bed and wheeled out of the room.

The towel is removed, and Shelley and Kingston are skin-to-skin. A nurse comes and helps her as Kingston wiggles around her breast looking for her nipple. There are many hands: the nurse, Shelley and the obstetrician all guide his head gently and he latches. The first feed.

Shelley gentle strokes his face while with her other fingers she pushes his nose away from her breast, so he has space to breath. More photos. The new family! The exploration of his little bod for the first time, his hair! They will need a brush Shelley says.

The bed is wheeled back into the ward where the families are eagerly and excitedly waiting for news.

I take a few sweet portraits of Kingston, his hair still wet, before I make a quiet exit and leave Shelley’s family coo-ing and emotional with their first grandchild.

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Women I've Shot

Birth: This is Birgit’s Story
The Birth of Dylan, 21 March 2016

I arrived just after midnight, a dimly lit labour room at Vincent Palloti Hospital. Midwife and doula quietly present either in the labour room or just outside making detailed notes of each stage of Birgit’s labour.  

Stepping into the labour room as quietly as possible, the air felt thick and Birgit was lying like a reclined nude in a Renaissance painting in the water of the tub with her partner by her side.  I know she had been in labour for long already and she was starting to get tired. Hours passed and she moved around the space slowly.

I went home briefly and then returned to the hospital where she had agreed to take an epidural, then rest a bit and then go into theatre for a Caesarian. The doctor who was on standby for epdiurals was unreachable and arrived with an arrogant attitude, disrespecting both the staff and the birthing space. The entire environment went form an internal space to a clinical and fluorescent environment. Long needles, graphs, masks.

The edpidural must have been a relief but she later told me how she felt guilty that her baby was then left alone in the birthing process.

Early morning and the bed was wheeled into the operating theatre; white, green, blue and silver environment, prepared with staff waiting.

After the first few cuts through her abdominal tissue Dylan emerged like a little warrior, frowning, fierce and brave with his little chest proud and strong as he came out of his Moms tummy, absolutely perfect!

The surroundings at that moment faded away and only his little body and all the natural colours of birth become visible for those moments.

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Interviews & Conversations Projects Women I've Shot

Positive Birth in South Africa: This is Candice Petersen


The Gate-Keepers: A Portraiture Project

This is a portraiture project, documenting the “gatekeepers” of a growing movement regarding positive birth experiences in our country.  My aim: to promote those who are enabling women to identify with their power and femininity and therefore normalize birth and the body.

These are their stories / anecdotes / opinions about what they do and how they see it…accompanied by my portraits and some general information on each sitter.

Candice Petersen is a South African midwife working in the public sector. She’s an advanced midwife with a background in nursing. Candice worked at Mowbray Maternity Hospital for 7.5 years before she moved to Khayelitsha District Hospital where she stayed for 5 months. She is currently working at Mitchell’s Plain District Hospital.

Candice Petersen Midwife South Africa - Photographed by Leah Hawker

My journey to midwifery began after the birth of my daughter nearly 17 years ago. I had a negative experience during my labour. Despite this, the moment i gave birth, I was in awe. It was wonderful. It was then that I decided to become a midwife.

I completed my training as a professional nurse in 2007. I started working at a specialised obstetric hospital in the government sector. Much has changed over the years in this sector with regards to birthing. Most of the old practices have been stopped (shaving, enemas, routine episiotomies, etc). Most hospitals have become more baby and mother friendly.

However, I do still believe that birthing in S.A is largely medicalized. The caesarean section is amongst the highest in the world.

I am still often shocked by the lack of patient care I see around me, the protocols are just something I often can’t agree with,- there is just so much intervention!

It often seems to me that the system is setting patients (in labour) up for failure (caesarean). I have often just felt that patients were being treated like livestock and not people. Each place I have worked at has been quite different, some definitely have much more evident care and compassion for the labouring woman however some facilities are incredibly hard to work at, psychologically…

What it means to me to be a midwife in the dominant world of medicine is to be an advocate for the women who are in my care. To ensure that her experience during labour is positive and without fear, that she may birth as she intends with the least intervention. I have come to experience many times that a softer approach and reassurance to the mom yields far greater results than a strictly clinical approach.

To engage with my patients and gain their trust, to share in their joy, their sorrow and to help to dispel their fears means so much to me.

The statistics I would like to see is a decline in the Caesarean section rate in this country. I believe we can achieve this by adopting more natural approaches to birthing. Women need to be empowered. Empowerment through education. There is too much fear surrounding birth, which in its essence, should be a natural, instinctive and physiological event.

• (I invite more participants to join the project, you are welcome to email me for more information).